


just a colour

by Fishwrites



Series: Airmen [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is Lance's big sister, Alternate Universe - Mob, Baby Animals, Childhood, Family, Fluff, Gen, Growing Up, Imprinting, Kid Fic, Lions, Mafia Family, Organized Crime, Pets, Protectiveness, Romeo and Juliet References, Steampunk, Toddlers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8175947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishwrites/pseuds/Fishwrites
Summary: Five times Lance looked after Blue, and one time it was the other way around. (where Blue is an actual (ginormous) Lion cub, genetically modified and gene-spliced for a futuristic fur farm. While at the markets, Lance and his siblings save her from being put down. And so begins a life long friendship).





	

**Author's Note:**

> Brief context: this is a prequel/prelude fic to a bigger fic project I'm working on that will be posted soon. This is a scifi-steampunk universe (without steam) where the main source of fuel is Belmeran crystal. Everyone is human; the Alteans and Galra are rival business/crime empires and the main fic will have Romeo/Juliet elements. :3 
> 
> This one is written from Blue's point of view.

_“What greater gift, than the love of a cat?”_

– Charles Dickens.

:i:

 

It was Market Day again.

She knew because she always got woken earlier on Market Day – before the sun was properly up – and the Big Ones chased her into a smelly box which she _hated_. It was smelly and the blanket was scratchy and the water always spilled and got her paws wet. They’d been doing this a few times now, once every week.

“Come on Runt,” they’d say, tapping the straw of her bed with a long sturdy stick, shuffling her towards the crate. She yowled, trying to bear all of her teeth, but they only laughed and tipped her into the box.

The Market wasn’t much better. It was _loud,_ and nothing smelled familiar. There were too many people and too many things and she huddled next to her water bowl, paws over her face.

Usually they set her down on a table or on top of some bigger crates – she could hear other animals all around her and it made her fur stand on end – and sometimes the lid of the crate would come off and people would peer and try to prod at her until she hissed. And then the sun would dip over the edges of the big buildings (everything was big, she missed her momma), and the crate would be put on the back of the cart and they’d eventually go home again.

It started out her and two of her brothers.

Now it was just her left.

“She won’t be as cute for much longer,” she heard them say over the crunch of food and churn of gravel, “Might as well put the thing down at this point.”

“Ugh,” his companion said, and something heavy thumped at the top of her crate. She crouched, holding her breath.

 

Today they put her in a different box; one with lots of gaps. The air came through, ruffling her fur and making her ears cold. She tried her best to ignore the crowds and the noises (the chicken next door was _loud_ and if she wasn’t in this stupid box, she would eat it _this_ fast). She could smell lots of different food too; eggs, cooking meat and something sweet and floaty.

She inched towards the edge of her cage, sniffing.

There were two people standing in front of their stall; one smelled like oil and horses; the other like metal and something flowery. She stuck her face up to the slats of her box to get a good look. There was something else – something that was like baby milk and…

A third figure, much smaller, much more her size, came suddenly up to her box.

She jumped back a little bit.

“Hi,” said small milky thing.

She meowed, twitching her ears.

Milky put his hand on the crate. He was holding the nice smelling food. She tilted her head.

With a wriggle and an impatient noise, Milky thrust his fist through the gap in her box, food in his hand. She stared. He stared back.

“ _Hi,”_ he said insistently, waggling his hand.

 

She had just snatched the food from those fingers – very _grabby_ – when there was an alarmed shout right above them (“LANCE!”) and Milky was pulled away. His fist was half in the box though, and the whole thing jolted, sloshing the water bowl. She dropped the food, flattening herself to the other side of the box. _A trap!_

One of the big ones were still shouting, bouncing Milky against his chest.

“What the _hell_  were you –“

“I thought you were watching him!”

“I only looked away for a _second_ – let me see that hand. No, no, _show Jav your hand Lance_. Yes okay, very nice – uh gross.”

“… miracle he didn’t get it bitten off, what’s _in there_ anyway?”

A pause.

Three sets of eyes came down to the opening of her box. She flattened her ears and opened her mouth as wide as it would go. _Look at my teeth!_ she wanted to say, _all of them! okay I don’t have all of them yet but I will SOON._

“Is that a blue cat?” asked one of the big ones.

“Goodness, look at those markings.”

“Ah ma’am, you have good taste! Modified lion cub this one, has a bit of a tigress and cheetah in her. Their winter coat is a much deeper blue if that’s what you’re after. She’s still a kitten now, very easy to handle.”

“Blue!” exclaimed Milky, trying to get to her cage. His fat little arms were waving desperately as he struggled to free himself from the hug to which he was confined, “ _Kitty!_ ” he said, looking up imploring at his captor, “Kitty! Blue Kitty! Blue!”

“Yes, Lance, we got that part,” said the big one.

“Why isn’t he with the others? I understand you operate near Arusia.”

“Ah, this one is a runt, ma’am,” said her owner, “won’t grow big enough for the season I’m afraid. They’re plenty docile though, if you’re after something a bit more exotic as a pet! Or would have enough fur for a nice scarf too.”

“…Mmhm.”

“ _BLUE,”_ said Milkly. Like the big ones, he had a shock of silver-white hair, like the cap on her own tail. Maybe he was a runt, like her. She inched forwards in her box, curious despite the tingling senses in her tail telling her to hide.

With a wriggle and a whoop, Milky slid off to freedom slumped forwards, hands grasping at the bars of the crate.

“Lance, _no!”_

“Kitty,” said Milky – or Lance, rather – “Jav, Kitty is blue!”

She smelt his hand, then gave the knuckles a few tentative licks. He tasted like bread crumbs and something pleasantly salty, like butter. She licked his hand some more, and he giggled rapturously, shaking her crate with his enthusiasm.

Lance turned around, eyes big.

“Blue. _Please Jav._ _Luraaaah._ Blue! I want kitty.”

“We are not buying Lance a lion cub from a fur merchant!” said the big one with the bloom of hair. Her arms were folded in front of her, stern, “Do you know how big this thing will go!”

“KITTEH!” screeched Lance, shaking the crate.

‘Kitteh’ put a paw over her nose and shut her eyes.

“Well if it’s just a runt… “

“Won’t be much bigger than a German Shepherd, Sir, Ma’am!” said her owner enthusiastically, “Maybe slightly bigger but not much. The rest of her litter wasn’t huge either I assure you.”

“Oh please, I know how big these go, especially the ones bred for coats – honestly you’d think – “

“Blue! Blue! Blue! BLUE!”

“Yes, okay Lance – “

“No it’s not okay!”

A pause.

Lance burst into tears. He was very loud. Louder than the whole market combined, she thought, ears flat in bewilderment. But he did share food with her. And smelt nice. And he didn’t call her ‘runt’, like everyone else did. He was wailing, eyes squeezed shut, little face screwed up with despair.

“Oh god.”

“Okay. Okay look let’s just – “

“ _Kitty,”_ Lance sobbed, refusing to let go of the crate, “Kit _ty.”_

“Shhh. Shh – look let’s just. Okay you can have kitty.”

“I swear to god Javier!”

“Shh, we’ll get kitty okay?”

“You’re cleaning all of the cat poop! All of it!”

“Aww, Allura, c’mon – “

Lance stopped crying abruptly.

She peered out cautiously.

“Blue comin’ home?” said Lance, sniffling.

A pause.

“Yeah, sure buddy.”

“I’m telling father this was all your idea.”

But Lance didn’t seem to care. He rocketed away from the cage and climbed one of the big ones like a monkey up a tree.

“Yay!” he said, “I love you best Jav! ”

There was the sound of money exchanging hands, the rest of the market flowing back to fill the space that had been entirely taken up by Lance and his curious face, squished right up to her crate. She pawed at the straw and her blanket, sticking her nose close to the outside world again so she could catch their scent. They were moving away now, and she was confused: did she not hear right?

But later, much later, she wasn’t put in the cart with all of the other crates and boxes and animals. One of the Big Ones took her in a little barrow, wheels clunking and jumping on the uneven road.

“Looks like things are going up for you eh, runt?” he said, tapping the top of her box. She scratched at it with her claws, just to make a point. He stopped tapping.

“Gonna live in luxury I’d expect,” he continued, “Those Altaen brats own half the goddamn city. Ah well . Maybe she won’t skin you for a coat. Better pray, eh?”

He stopped, and a dark cloth was thrown over the box. Worried, she yowled – but he didn’t come back. Someone else picked up the box instead, grunting under the weight of it. He didn’t talk, and she couldn’t see. The box rocked, left right, left right.

Eventually her heart slowed back down when nothing scary happened. Then she was sat down on the floor; stone – she could feel the coolness of it between her paws and the wooden crate. She settled down to wait.

 _Blue,_ she thought. _I like that name._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm weak for toddler Lance and cats so... here's both... the story will show them at different ages :3 FYI, Javier is the second oldest child in the family after Allura, and is Lance's big brother. Lance is the youngest. 
> 
> First time posting short fluffy ficlets... any feedback is appreciateddddd. Writing from a kitty perspective was... hard haha. Updates will be pretty quick! (come squee with me on twitter **@fishwrites** )


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